The Puzzle
by Jemmiah
Summary: What can be more harmless than an innocent friendship gift? ObiWan's about to find out the hard way...


The Puzzle  
By Jemmiah  
  
"...And I'm sorry we don't see as much of you as we used to, Tangles. But it is unavoidable, I'm afraid." Qui-Gon's voice was gentle, the hand on Jemmiah's shoulder warm, reassuring but also heavy as if transferring a little of that genuine regret through its weight. "You like the permanent arrangement with Evla though, don't you?"  
  
Jemmiah smiled, her lips puckering impishly. "You know I do, Master J. She lets me do all sorts of things you wouldn't let me get away with."  
  
It wasn't the answer he'd been expecting, nor did her words particularly fill him with delight.  
  
"Really." He said with distinct un-enthusiasm. "And what things might they be?"  
  
The Corellian girl shrugged, swinging her feet back and forth underneath the chair on which she was seated. "Loads of stuff. Staying up later. Not making me do my homework the moment I get in from school. Letting me sleep in at the weekend! Not to mention all the chocolate that she steals from the ini..." She made a show of sucking in her lower lip. "No...better not mention that! Don't want my supply route unexpectedly cut off!"  
  
Qui-Gon cleared away the plates from the dinner table, stacking the knives and forks neatly across the middle. It was mostly for his benefit that she had indulged him in this unremitting banter, not especially because she wanted to show him in a bad light compared with Evla. Her guardian was, after all, a crèche master with years of experience in looking after challenging children: surely she knew what she was doing! That said, the fact she was apparently so soft on Jemmiah had frankly surprised Qui-Gon.  
  
Still, he could tell that Jemmiah was trying desperately to cover the fact that she had missed both his and Obi-Wan's presence greatly these last few months, hoping he wouldn't be able to see the magnitude of her relief that master and padawan had returned with hardly a scratch between them.  
  
Well, okay. Obi-Wan had a black eye, but that wasn't much in the grand scale of things, was it?  
  
"I don't see why you don't just float 'em away with your hands," Jemmy pointed at the plates supported by Qui-Gon's broad fingers. "I would if I could use the force."  
  
"That is precisely why you are not a Jedi." Qui-Gon commented, looking rather relieved. "Cutting corners is taking the easy way out: and a Jedi shouldn't do these things just because they can."  
  
"What's the point in being able to do them, then?" Jemmy replied with a comic roll of her eyes.  
  
Qui-Gon didn't answer. Mainly because he didn't really have one that would satisfy Jemmiah's continually questioning mind in a way both of them would accept. Besides which she was just trying to bait him. Instead he decided to change the subject. He welcomed the idle chatter: after the long, hard series of missions it was like music to his ears to be able to relax and not concentrate on anything too demanding.  
  
"Obi-Wan really missed you while we were away." Qui-Gon smiled over his shoulder at her as he walked into the kitchen area. "Not that he said it in so many words..."  
  
"If he didn't say it," Jemmy squinted at him suspiciously, "then how do you know he missed me?"  
  
The master couldn't help but laugh at that one. Always with Jemmiah there needed to be hard proof - firm evidence. There was little or no faith in anything less tangible, and although she had seen the force in action and believed in what it could be made to do she remained an inveterate sceptic at heart. She couldn't use the 't experience it at first hand, therefore its relevance to her life remained marginal to say the least.  
  
"I can tell." Qui-Gon replied succinctly. "In the moments where it was safe to do so he allowed himself to think about you and wonder what mischief you had gotten yourself into. As did I!"  
  
_Mischief?!?_ Jemmiah didn't know whether to be pleased at being thus remembered, embarrassed at being the focus of unexpected warm thoughts or to bristle instead at the lack of trust the Jedi had in her! In her confusion she decided to plump for a mixture of all three.  
  
"There is a connection between you." Qui-Gon continued, amused at the indignant manner in which her mouth opened and closed in an attempt to say something coherent. "A bond through the force."  
  
"I don't have that force." Jemmiah sighed, scraping absently with her nails at a ring of Takkini sauce that had settled and gelatinised on the tablemat.  
  
"But you know that bond is still there. You might not be able to sense it, like he can," the master rolled up his sleeved and prepared to rinse the plates in the hot water, "but that doesn't mean you can't believe in it."  
  
Jemmiah's face momentarily flamed with pleasure at the thought of being important to someone. It wasn't something she necessarily considered too much, but the idea was strangely appealing. What should she do now? It was as if Qui-Gon was waiting for her to say something, like he'd engineered the moment so that she could make her own confession.  
  
"I missed you both too." She said reluctantly, not looking him in the eye in case he was wearing that embarrassingly Quiggy-like grin. "I don't like saying so because it sounds like I'm favouring you over Evla...and that wouldn't be right."  
  
"So you don't prefer Evla?" Qui-Gon asked, playing his own familiar game.  
  
"No...yes..."  
  
"Yes? You prefer her?" Jinn repeated, sounding wounded.  
  
"No..."  
  
"It can't be both! You must have a preference. I mean, if it is Evla I can always give up and throw myself off the balcony..."  
  
Jemmiah's eyes grew wide.  
  
"I'm only joking." Qui-Gon threw her a wink.  
  
The eleven-year-old girl huffed like a snorting Reek. "That was mean!"  
  
"I know." The master tidied his long hair behind his ears. "I apologise. It's just that I couldn't resist it!"  
  
Jemmiah was silent for a moment. What must it be like to be force sensitive? To feel a part of everything around you - to tap into nature and creation itself? She'd once tried to ask Obi-Wan but he was so used to being force sensitive that when it came to trying to describe it he'd quickly found that he couldn't! But perhaps Qui-Gon was right: it was enough to know that the force bound them all together. Evla too, of course.  
  
"It _is _nice to be remembered." Jemmiah said slowly, chewing over Obi-Wan's brotherly devotion even from so great a distance. To be honest she was beginning to feel slightly guilty, for while she had thought about the absent Jedi every day perhaps she'd begun to take them slightly for granted. Time to look at things afresh maybe, and remind herself exactly how fortunate she was to have such a loyal family. "Hey, do you think Obi-Wan would like a present? To show him that I was thinking of him, too?"  
  
"I'm sure it's enough for him to know that you thought of him in return." Qui-Gon answered after a slight pause, not wanting to feel he'd made Jemmiah uncomfortable in any way. "That in itself is the greatest gift a person can bestow on another being."  
  
"Yeah, I knowwwww...." Jemmiah moped, resting her cheek despondently in her hand. "But it's just that I want to show him how much I missed him, rather than telling him. I mean, that way he would know for sure..."  
  
Qui-Gon shook his head in bemusement. There she went again with that tangibility problem and her inherent need to see physical proof. Very well, then. If that was what she wanted then who was he to discourage her?  
  
"I suppose a pair of socks might be a good idea." Qui-Gon nodded his agreement. "They're something he needs. They're practical. They're..."  
  
"Boring!" Jemmiah interjected. "Qui-Geeee! I can't show someone I love them with a pair of socks! You Jedi have no idea, have you? That's not how it's done! If I use a pair of socks as a measure of my friendship then he'll most likely never speak to me again!"  
  
"There's no need to get him anything!" Qui-Gon laughed at her increasingly indignant expression. "Seriously!" He relented somewhat on seeing the deadly serious set of her jaw, the determination burning fiercely within her copper eyes. "But if you must then get him something of use. Something of value to his training. Maybe an aid to his hand/eye co-ordination. And above all," Qui-Gon finished with a raised eyebrow, "Something inexpensive!"  
  
Jemmiah allowed her chin to sink into both palms this time as she pondered Qui-Gon's words. Where on Coruscant would she find something that fit into the list of requirements that the master had given her? Surely there was nothing on the planet that had such a thing? Brooding silently as Qui-Gon continued to wash the dishes Jemmiah remained strangely undeterred. She would find something suitable...something that Obi-Wan would like.  
  
Besides which, she loved a challenge!  
  
"A link puzzle?" Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot up in remembrance of the surprise he had felt on receiving Jemmiah's unexpected gift. He'd been so taken aback at actually being given a friendship gift that he'd barely had the wits to stammer a thank you, let alone reveal any astonishment at the nature of the present. His face cracked into an ever-increasing smile. "Does she think I'm still a child?"  
  
"Don't be ungrateful." Qui-Gon reprimanded his padawan with a raised finger. "She put a lot of thought into that gift. It could so easily have been a pair of socks..."  
  
"At least I could have worn them." The padawan picked up the box and shook it, listening to loud rattling from inside as all the pieces slid around. "I mean no offence here, master. It's just that I'm not a child...link puzzles aren't really my idea of a civilised time."  
  
"Perhaps. And there are rather a lot of pieces, according to the description on the box." Jinn peered at the Aurabesh writing on the side. "10,000 pieces! You'll be at it for years!"  
  
Obi-Wan groaned. "Please, master! That's not funny...I'm just not a puzzle-person."  
  
"Then," Qui-Gon clapped his apprentice on the shoulder, "it's about time that you learned. It will help you with your puzzle-solving skills and," he let the word hang in the air for a moment, "help you learn some much-needed patience!"  
  
Obi-Wan's face fell slightly. He didn't much fancy undertaking such a monster task. One thing was certain: it would take an age to complete - and what was more Jemmiah would expect him to have a go at it, because if he didn't she would feel it was a slight against her friendship. He didn't really want to disappoint her...then again he really didn't want to start sifting through over 10,000 pieces of puzzle!  
  
"I dare say," Qui-Gon nodded as he studied the picture on the box - that of a furry Vampki chewing at a tree branch, "we can tackle this thing together, hmm? Although it might take a lot of room space."  
  
"Not to mention time." Obi-Wan agreed, relieved to have some help.  
  
"Time is something that only the force can give or take from us." Qui-Gon said sagely. "However, that doesn't mean we can't attempt it. We can use Jemmiah's spare room. Now that she's with Evla I'm sure she will be happy that her old bedroom will be put to such good use. Come on, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon beckoned at him, leading the way. "Do, or do not. There is no try."  
  
Obi-Wan's shoulders sagged. "Can we 'do not'?" He asked.  
  
An obsession. That's what it had become. 10,000 plus pieces with hardly a moment of spare time to devote to it. Missions came and went. Years passed by. Even when they were away dealing with border disputes and bringing the local warlord into line, rescuing princesses and saving planets from destruction, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon joked about finishing the puzzle. How many edges were still to be found? Had Obi-Wan managed to piece together more bits of Vampki fur than his master? How close were they to ever finishing the thing? But it was no longer the immense drag that Obi-Wan had once thought it: now it had become a light-hearted object of fun in a galaxy dominated by unhappy news, tedious politics and trips to the infirmary...  
  
Yes, inasmuch as a Jedi could have obsessions and passions: this was Obi-Wan's. He would not be beaten! Slowly over the years that passed he looked forward to the day when he could see that cute little Vampki face staring up at him from the conjoined pieces of puzzle. Qui-Gon's enthusiasm had waned as time had passed: a combination of his reoccurring bad back (whatever treatment Leona was giving him didn't seem to be helping) and the onset of old age were no doubt to blame. Although on the latter point Obi-Wan had heard that people regressed when they became old. Rather a pity it hadn't worked on his master!  
  
One day, when Jemmiah had popped around to steal some rare time with the padawan (now her boyfriend, much to Qui-Gon's concern) Obi-Wan had made a lame excuse about going to search for something in the spare room...and disappearing for some forty minutes. Qui-Gon, trying his best to entertain the increasingly left-out nineteen year old girl, had watched as Jemmiah had disinterestedly sat and filed her fingernails whilst waiting for her boyfriend to return.  
  
"Do I have body odour, is that it?" She asked Qui-Gon plaintively. "Do I smell? What is he doing now? How long does it take to search for something in a room that couldn't hide a Jawa?"  
  
"It's your own fault." Qui-Gon offered her a wry smile. "Remember that link puzzle you got him all those years ago?"  
  
"No."  
  
Qui-Gon elaborated further. "Yes you do - the one with the Vampki on the lid. The one with over 10,000 pieces that's taken him eight years to get within the boundaries of completion?"  
  
Jemmiah frowned, trying to squeeze the memory into her brain with the effort of her brows.  
  
"Oh, yes..." She nodded after a while. "I remember that! Sheesh, that was a long time ago! I'd have thought he'd have given that up within days of him starting it!"  
  
"Not at all." Qui-Gon gestured towards the closed door that led off the main living quarters. "He's been diligently working on it these last eight years. A piece here and another piece there...it's taken him a long time but now he's finally within spitting distance of finishing his quest. He's secretly delighted, I think. He's a quietly determined and resolute young man. Once he undertakes a mission he won't stop until the job is done."  
  
Jemmiah snorted. "You weren't there last night when he...actually we'd best draw a fine line over that, hadn't we?"  
  
"I mean he keeps at it relentlessly." Qui-Gon added, confused.  
  
"It seems he's been saving his stamina for other pursuits." Jemmy frowned, following Qui-Gon's gaze towards her old bedroom. "I don't know what's wrong with him. He seems to have no trouble slotting the relevant bits together..."  
  
"We ARE talking about the link puzzle, aren't we?" Breathed Qui-Gon cautiously.  
  
But at that precise moment the door was thrown backwards as if caught in a gale, revealing a visibly distressed Obi-Wan standing in the mouth of the room. Agitated, unhappy, confused...perhaps even annoyed? Those were words that Qui-Gon could quite easily have applied to his apprentice at that moment. And that was just for a start!  
  
"Whatever is the matter, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon stood up, placing his hands upon his hips. "You look most put-out!"  
  
"What is the matter?" Kenobi repeated, greatly vexed. "I've just spent the last 8 years trying to finish that puzzle! I have dedicated more time on that blasted thing than an adult male perhaps ought to! I sweated over the pieces, I wore out my eyes...and for what?!?"  
  
Qui-Gon blinked. "Tell us."  
  
"There's a piece missing!!! One single piece! All that effort to put it together - thrown to the winds!" Obi-Wan closed his eyes in despair, wanting the ground to open up and swallow him. "Why??? Why me?!?"  
  
"It's not the end of the galaxy, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon said reasonably.  
  
Obi-Wan turned to Jemmiah. "I hope you still have the receipt, because even after eight years it is going right back where it came from!"  
  
Jemmy swallowed nervously. "I, er...didn't get a receipt." She admitted after a while, feeling Obi-Wan's unsettled gaze fall upon her. "I...well you see, I didn't have a lot of money. And Qui-Gon said to get you something inexpensive! And I saw the link puzzle in a discount sale for only two credits, so I kept the forty eight credits Evla gave me and bought a huge bag of Jelly Worms!"  
  
Obi-Wan was aghast. "Didn't it occur to you to wonder what might be wrong with the puzzle?" He demanded tersely.  
  
"Well of course it did!" Jemmiah snapped back. "Do you really expect all the pieces to be there for just two credits? Sheesh, there's gratitude! And to think I did it as your friend!"  
  
The padawan stopped and looked at his feet, trying to collect his thoughts.  
  
"I feel as if I have just wasted eight years of my life." He offered finally.  
  
"Then don't get so darned intense! What kind of big kid are you, anyway? A grown man, supposedly! Not that I had any evidence of that last night." She added with a pointed stare at Obi-Wan which sent a red flush travelling all over his face. "How was I to know you'd try to finish the darned thing? These sorts of gifts are designed to get thrown out after three days! I expected you to give up long before you'd realise any of the bits were gone!"  
  
Obi-Wan took a deep breath, mentally counted to five...and then started the retreat to his room. It was the easiest course of action open to him when Jemmiah was in a mood.  
  
"I'm going to bed now." He said, carrying his head in the air in a reflection of his wounded dignity. "On my own."  
  
Jemmiah didn't bat an eyelid. "The way you've been lately I'm as well being on my own: I'd hardly notice the difference..."  
  
The door shut rapidly behind him with an embarrassed and hasty thud.  
  
For a while nothing was said as Qui-Gon and Jemmiah stared at the empty space that Obi-Wan had recently vacated. Then, after a considered elapse of time, Qui-Gon leaned in close to Jemmiah and whispered in her ear:  
  
"You should have bought him the socks."


End file.
